In further laziness, I read Thank You, Jeeves by PG Wodehouse. [Get a load of that link! If a crumbling nation of corrupt depressives can get behind Wodehouse, uh, something something something.] What a piece of utterly un-life-changing shit. There was a brief while when I fantasized a modern filming of it, or at least the blackface scenes, imagining the exquisite squirming of an appalled audience, and that caused me to snicker. It seems somebody took a shot at it already, but back in the days when such things caused less gasping.
I tend to prefer characters to exhibit some kind of humanity instead of robotic tics, even in fantastical situations. Makes funny bits just that. Less Disco Stu and more Ralph Wiggum. No more Wodehouse for me.